


Twist

by MR01



Series: Mend [21]
Category: Gotham (TV), Pennyworth (TV 2019)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Friendship/Love, M/M, Mild Smut, New years fic kind of, Some ptsd bc these boys clearly have it, Thomas Wayne is CIA, touched on but not much & no it doesn't get magically resolved or disappear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28328556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MR01/pseuds/MR01
Summary: Thomas has a job for the ex-SAS boys.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth/Thomas Wayne
Series: Mend [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1424005
Kudos: 1





	Twist

* * *

"3..2..1.. Happy New Year's!" The crowd at the Delaney cheers happily. Screams and hollers of joy quickly following.

Glasses of champagne and trays holding mini sandwiches going around.

Confetti covering their world as white and gold balloons begin to descend.

Some couples and strangers alike kissing without a care. Others hugging each other to celebrate.

This place is still a safe haven.

A well respected neutral zone. Everyone is welcome here no matter what side they happen to be on.

As long as they follow the main, truly simple rules.They bring in no guns or illicit nonsense.

Everyone here is held up at standard. No exceptions for the guests.

Well maybe if they're drunk and being daft. Or it's something really important.

Like safety. Needing to feel it, the reassurance.

They can all understand that. Alfie looks at what he's done. What his friends and community helped him build.

A part of him will always miss this place. It's people. Fond turned sad memories. He tries to focus.

Pay attention to what he's listening to.

Toasting to good health, prosperity and high hopes for a better year.

Being poured out into that atmosphere because this one that just ended was straight up garbage.

Well wishes going all around.

The showgirls are putting on quite the number and there is a new act on stage.

Singing a love song featuring lyrics that are full of past sorrows then pick up to share a tale of hope.

Alfred is mostly surrounded by dear friends and acquaintances.

He can even see his Mom at a distance. Laughing as Dave Boy pulls her into the dance floor with Sandra.

They look like they are having a jolly good time. Alfred thinks he'd like to remember this moment forever.

"We did it Alfie. We by some miracle or I'll say it the grace of God, thankfully survived this wretched year. How are you feeling mate."

Bazza is handing him a bottle of the good stuff. Clasping him on the back eagerly.

Smiling broadly. Looking breathtaking in his radiance.

Also pretty damn happy and Alfred wholly finds himself smiling back at his best friend.

A shared life experience turned the man into pretty much a loved brother.

Alfie surrendering to his good vibe because his current energy is contagious.

"You know what, I'm good. For once I think I can see things clearer. So close. Something nice for you, me and Dave Boy in the horizon."

"America is going to be a fresh start for us, Bazza. We can finally leave this place and it's ghosts."

"This long lived, damned war behind us. Hopefully the one that still lives on in our mind as well. It has overstayed it's welcome."

Bazza cheers to that, the idea of a better future. Taking a drink from the his bottle before letting him officially keep it.

Excusing himself when a lovely woman catches his attention as she heads to the bar.

Commanding he look just at her as she elegantly awaits her ordered martini.

Alfie waves him off, wishing him the absolute best of luck and great vibes.

Teasingly asking him to please invite him to the wedding before he's fully out of ear shot.

Bazza calling him a right cheeky bastard. But otherwise showing him a thumbs up. Totally agreeing with the idea.

Going with it and pitching back.

Telling him that he and Dave Boy can copilot, share the title of best man because he can't decide who he loves more.

And if not they can flip a coin, leave it to fate.

The choice.

* * *

Alfred laughs going back to his drink. His focus on the crowd. Not that he's expecting danger but one can never be to careful.

Once he sees nothing too out of the ordinary he decides to have a little fun. Giving in to temptation.

Thinking that he's gotta before he completely forgets how it's done.

Trying to dispell stupid thoughts of irrational fears before they settle in.

As rare as it is he finds himself doing it.

Starting off slow. Getting the groove of things quickly.

Dancing with some of his not too well known neighbors to the beat of the music.

Joy in abundance and he really thinks he has greatly missed this. Being and for the love of the Queen, actually feeling his age.

A small, genuine break from it all.

Without the weight of the world upon him.

The ghosts and sins he carries.

Alfred thinks it's gone too soon. His happiness evaporating slightly as he watches the bar again.

Someone who definitely doesn't belong but is by no means unwelcome in his establishment.

Despite his possible at times reservations. The ever present (at times self-imposed) risks of his association, almost friendship.

Taking a drink then another from the gifted bottle Alfie takes his time. Building his courage. Refortifying his patience.

He makes his way to the man easily. Bypassing the loud crowd. Some people wishing him well as others ask him to dance.

More than one person blowing him a kiss.

Winking his way. Interest clear as day in their eyes.

Letting him know point blank that if he finds himself alone for a moment. Tonight.

That he can follow them, take them anywhere he wants. The options in the air.

His to take.

Alfie laughs. Glad to know. Keeping the thought in the back of his mind.

* * *

"Mr. Wayne. It's a pleasure to see you. An oddity too I might add."

Alfred leans against the bar. Looking at the gorgeous billionaire.

Smiling at him. More polite than anything else but the slightly awkward man is returning it in kind.

It's nice.

"I thought you were abroad. Welcome back to England, I guess."

Alfie takes another drink. Almost finished with the bottle. He could do with some ice.

"I hope the jet lag hasn't soured your mood too bad. The party's in full swing. Have a dance later. Plenty a partner tonight." 

Thomas nods his way in acknowledgement.

Discreetly checking out the dashing British man.

Thinking it a blessing whilst certainly a tragedy that his crush for the man is still kicking well as ever.

Getting straight to the point. He knows how much the taller man both hates yet appreciates this.

The thinly veiled bullshit. Half-assed yet always bulletproof cover story.

The way he phrases words. Always hinting yet concealing, at times (badly) straight up denying information.

"I just got back from a (daunting) conference in New Hampshire. It's always good to see you Alfred."

Thomas looks at the happiness around them.

Knowing that back home in Gotham the atmosphere is nowhere near as fun.

But he comes from a different background.

He doesn't feel too bad.

"Well Tom, what brings you by?" Alfred pulls up a chair. Motioning for the man to follow.

Asking the bartender to surprise him and also get him some water while Thomas asks for a glass of milk.

Alfred has half of mind to ask him if he's a pervert because who the hell drinks it unprovoked.

Like without bread or something to snack on.

But maybe the man has heartburn. Which adds up. Or he just doesn't want to drink.

Which is fine. Perhaps he's trying to get taller though. Who knows.

"I need your help. I can pay."

The barman hands them their drinks, a small stack of napkins and a coaster.

Sliding them a bowl of pretzels big enough to share since they are talking anyway.

Wishing them a happy new year and the best of luck with their resolutions.

Which brings Alfred to the topic at hand. Well he had wanted to discuss this, not with Wayne of all people though.

At least not until he'd had to cross that bridge. Still here he is so he might as well.

He wants to shut down this thought and line of conversation before it even begins.

"It's the new year Wayne. Can't this wait until the morning?" He really doesn't want to hear it.

"No. Trust me. I wish it could. Fifteen thousand pounds. Say yes right now."

Alfred eyes widen slightly. Narrowing instantly, his voice a little colored with anger.

It's clean. Quick. Thomas finds it a little hot in here all of a sudden. 

Surprise has him sitting a little straighter.

Mentally collecting himself.

"Here's the thing Wayne. I think you're just taking me for granted. Your logic is what exactly?"

He leans in minutely closer. Accusation and disappointment carrying him forward.

His word passionate and low.

He really doesn't want to draw a crowd. But fuck him.

Stupid Thomas Wayne and his even stupider assumptions.

Bold, shameless bastard. Alfred can't help but admire him for it a little more than before.

And he hates it. How effortless it is.

"You thinking I'm just going to say yes. Why. Only because you asked. I'm not your pet love, I ain't jumping for nobody but me."

Thomas looks around quickly. Eyes scanning the scene slightly uneasily.

This is not going exactly well and if it progresses further either in volume or tone, quickly souring vibe.

They might gain someone wanted attention in real time.

Thomas holds his hands up in a hopefully slightly appeasing motion.

He hopes to openly convey that he meant no disrespect without actually having to say it out loud.

His own voice taking a much gentler tone, careful. Like he is walking a fine line that can just vanish in a minute.

There's an underlying urgent note to it.

One that Thomas is heading to. Had hoped to convey just not yet but it works in his favor because the ex soldier picks up on it nonetheless.

"Alfred this is a matter of international security. When I say it is important you best believe I mean it."

Alfie is backing up. Looking at him in adamant disbelief. Annoyance even.

"Why not get someone from Interpol or one of your fancy secret op teams to do it. You could request to work with MI-4 or MI-5 if it's a real thing."

He raised an eyebrow. Challenging but there is a look to him the has Thomas thinking that he understands.

Or at least can begin to grasp what's really at stake here.

"Can you stop being so difficult. This has to be, stay an internal affair and as far as I'm concerned you're it."

"You and your team are what I brought to the table."

"To my superiors. I am sorry but it's done and I believe in you. Your unparalleled skills."

Thomas is lying through his teeth. Pulling words out of ass basically as he says the next part.

He regrets it as soon as he does. Truly. He can see the hurt in his eyes, the open betrayal.

That doesn't change things. This job has to be done. And this is without a doubt the man for the task.

An American can't be the one to pull the trigger and Thomas refused to ask these war-torn people for assistance.

He doesn't trust or care for them. Not really.

But Alfred is the exception. He is a man of principal and values. He is a honorable man with the deadly-killer grace of a machine.

This man is absolutely perfect.

"You're government, the Queen ok'd it by the way. We need these people taken out tonight."

It's a long few minutes spent in silence. So much so that Thomas had wanted to break it but just by looking at the man he chose not.

He looked a little broken. Defeated and Thomas fucking hates that he is the cause of this.

"Twenty-eight." The number is spoken low and with a finality that has the billionaire knowing that he won't even bother to argue.

"It's yours. Thank you. It's no over exaggeration when I say part of the free world owes you a great deal."

Thomas drinks his milk quickly. Feeling thirsty all of sudden. Like he's run a marathon for the past ten minutes.

He called up the bartender thinking that the conversation's done and he can disclose the details quickly. Possibly somewhere else.

A little more private.

As in hindsight he should have done earlier but screw it. He was jet lagged and it is the new year.

You live and learn. He certainly did with this enlightening conversation.

"You were low balling me? Didn't take you as the type. For shame Wayne." Alfie shows him a small smile.

Letting him know that despite everything he's still with him.

One that doesn't reach his eyes. It is more diplomatic but a new tone is there.

Something light, a tiny bit more cheerful. Slightly teasing. Adorable.

"Trust me Alfred your price is way out of my ballpark. But the No-Name League thinks you're worth it."

And he does too but like he's not fessing up to being part of the CIA. He definitely won't go loudly proclaiming up to this either.

"The CIA you mean. What's the job then?" 

Of course. He was a fool to think this brilliant man wouldn't bring up his shadow-lurking employers almost every single opportunity he got.

"I'm not..fuck. Bottom-lining it I need you to kill some people. Quickly. Not too much of a fuss."

The bartender comes by again. Well this is intent of employee.

Topping off Alfred's drink only to have the man say he'll go with a glass of water after he drinks it.

When he returns with it he offers Thomas another glass and a small plate of chocolate chip cookies accompanying it this time.

Both men looking at him and the plate. The well built tension cracking in mere seconds.

The gesture was a choice. One Thomas finds himself not too bothered by. Perhaps it's the spirit of the day.

The tone sobering up however when the for the most part successful club owner spoke up again. 

"No can do. I'm trying to be a changed man. I've failed more than once at it before. I don't want to this time."

He keeps talking. As if he's trying to explain his reasoning. His thought process behind this new life altering, defining decision.

"It's a new year. I want to prove to myself that my inner animal is tamed, dead or almost no more."

"That I am more than just my past. What I've had to do. And I reckon I can't very well do that if I start it off like this now can I."

"It seems like it'd be some kind of hypocrisy at play right there."

Alfred looks away towards the end of the words. His fingers traveling down the cold glass of water. He looks contemplative, sad.

Like more than one type of ghost haunts him. As if he had wanted or expected something else. Thomas calls the bartender back.

Asking for a shot of whatever Alfred was drinking previously. He feels like he will burn in hellfire for what he's done.

What he has already volunteered these valiant veterans to do for more than just his government.

It's a long time, well it feels like it. The silence stretching on until Thomas is talking again.

"Look Mr. Pennyworth, Alfred. Please reconsider because I'm trying to appeal to your good judgment. It is the sensible thing to do, you know this."

* * *

About two hours or so have past since Thomas approached him with the proposition and Alfie's just going to call it what it is, a hit list.

The billionaire going into details now that he's rounded up the boys.

Now that they're alone without the man in Alfred's office.

They are free to talk amongst themselves. Look over the expected location of the targets carefully.

The documents clearly listing, outlining what he can and cannot to do.

Giving them some creative freedom sure but ultimately there is a certain way to the madness.

The way they want these folk snuffed. There is even a tight time frame window.

Thomas had brought in a suitcase with him. Containing inside a couple of unregistered new. High-tech, good rank military grade guns.

Bazza and Dave Boy agreed far too quickly to the job for Alfie's liking.

Even before they had heard how much of a great pay day this would be.

He keeps his questions and concerns to himself.

It's only once Alfie's face to face with his fifth confirmed kill of the night.

A worn and a bloodied mess. Real close to the brink of just wanting to give in.

A gun to his temple and a few worse for wear looking blokes surrounding him.

Does he come to the realization that his friends only agreed to come this far into the depths of hell to protect him.

Pull him out. Help keep him together.

And they come in. Hurt, almost crawling. Looking slightly broken and lost in despair themselves.

Guns blazing. Eyes wild. Ready to die for, with him and Alfie hates that they now have to share in his added nightmares.

There is one more name to cross off.

Bazza and Dave Boy having killed more than their fair share of folks tonight.

Helping him carry the heavy burden without complaint. He doesn't know what good he's done to deserve them. His brothers.

By the time they find their last target it is well past three forty AM. The sun's almost up.

They are battered and bruised. Dirty yet still walking. It takes them a little more time to find this person than the previous folks.

It doesn't take much longer to corner the man. They try and bribe their way out of dying.

When that doesn't work they resort to threats then fear settles in.

Begging ensues and Alfred knows he really should not have let this drag on this far.

He wishes there was another way out for them but he has to follow his orders. These are bad folks.

Thomas had somewhat reluctantly disclosed enough.

On his way up the killing spree he found some stuff out. It really didn't make matters easier.

This is his last mark. Hopefully forever. Alfie is trying not to think himself naive.

Alfred's got his gun. Aim ready. He does not know why he is so hesitant now.

He has done a lot tonight. Far too much. Gone a little above and beyond. He thinks he might break.

His hands shaking a little during this task and that has never happened before. It is new and he thinks he's in trouble. He breathes.

Readying himself for what he has to do. He has no qualms. Didn't. Cannot start now.

When he is like this. It should be quick. Like an out of body experience. Easy. Not really but definitely easier than this.

He doesn't jump when Dave Boy steps closer. Voice low and understanding. Placing a hand on his shoulder. "Look away Alfie."

His own voice coming out resolute as he answered back. Trying to get a better footing on the situation. Re-control his aim.

"No. I took on the job. It's my responsibility to make sure I see it through. You don't have to do this. Neither of you."

Wallace's voice holding a command to it that makes Alfred relent. Breathing slower because he feels himself wanting to spiral.

"I said at ease, Alfred." Bazza is taking the gun from his hold. Effortless as he moves.

Shooting the man in the specified locations quickly. Looking at the man's now still body long after they've died.

Then turning towards his friends. 

Putting the weapon away. He made sure they cleaned their tracks up to this point.

He is ready to go home. He wants to shower. Maybe keep something down. Try. He won't be sleeping tonight anyway.

"That's not your call. You've done enough. Let's go home. Because I need a drink."

* * *

By the time Alfred makes his way to Thomas's apartment it is already morning.

He and the boys having taken advantage of the celebrations still going on outside to disappear into the shadows quickly.

His mom, people that could potentially miss them or question their location.

All probably thinking that they're on a bender still celebrating.

Deon saying he will take the Dave Boy home. That they can catch up in a day or two. Later at the Severed Arms pub.

"I uhh wow. Look at you. Shit. Come in, please. I'm-" Thomas clears his throat. The tiredness he had been feeling evaporating completely. "Real sorry Alfred."

The pajama clad billionaire moving to open the door quickly. Ushering him to his home.

Blood staining his floor. Thomas walks quickly leading him to his restroom.

Clothes ready and laid out for the man. Not that he completely expected Alfred to show up here.

Much less looking like he had bathed in blood. Thomas wonders how much is his and what portion belongs to the other guys.

Mentally tells him that really, he is better off not knowing. But with the report due he'll end up finding out anyway.

"No matter. Just pay me Mr. Wayne so I can go home. I've got an early morning I'm sure."

Alfred walks towards the restroom like a zombie. Deftly accepting the towel that was handed over to him.

He flinches slightly as he looks at himself in the mirror. Really sees himself.

At all the blood and grime.

Thomas knows that this isn't the time. But he sees the man reaching for a bar of soap and turning on the faucet.

Steam filling the mirror.

Working hard on scrubbing the blood off himself.

When it doesn't seem to be enough. Quick. Alfred lets out a frustrated noise.

Looking around the restroom. Quietly asking "may I" and Thomas doesn't know what he's agreeing to but at this point it can be anything.

He'll say yes gladly. This man, his friends deserve a whole lot. The world.

"Here's an extra three thousand dollars. Cash. A little birdie told me you three are looking to move to America."

"This can help you for a day or two until you go to a currency exchange location. If you ever need anything."

Thomas leaves a briefcase with money on his mattress.

Having the smaller hefty envelope on top of it. They are here because Alfred in his haste accidentally walked into Thomas's private restroom.

Not that the he is complaining.

At this point he could do what he wants. Ask for anything. This space is his place if he wants it.

Alfred is walking into Thomas's shower. Clothes on and everything. Looking in a daze.

Turning on the water and taking it off after he's poured almost half a new bottle of expensive shampoo on himself.

Discarding the bottle on floor as he scrubs everywhere. Tries to.

Thomas watching the rapidly progressing meltdown entranced.

In real time.

Talking because he can't physically shut up and he's walking closer.

"You or your friends, do not hesitate to ask. No strings attached, it should have gone without saying."

As he continues his voice does start to lower in volume however. Trying to snap his attention back to him. Keep it.

"But with what happened tonight. I fear I've pushed the envelope far enough."

Alfie is moving like a cobra. He has Thomas pressed against the wall. Pinning him.

Cupping his hardening cock through his rapidly soaking pants.

Touching him roughly. Like he knows what he wants. This isn't a good time or place.

Neither of them stop however.

The almost scorching water not great so Thomas maneuvers them a little to the left.

His mouth against his as he moves to distract him. 

Moving the handle to a neutral cooler setting and Alfred is calling him a CIA bastard.

Discarding most of their clothes is a flurry of movements.

Thomas taking control of the situation because Alfie looks like he just needs to feel present.

Like he is miles away yet here enough to keep him going.

And Thomas will have to bring the subject line of tonight's prior endeavors up again sometime later today for his report to the government.

Make sure everything went accordingly.

But right now he can be here. Do this. In between kisses and soft touches he tells Alfred to shut his eyes.

That he can take care of him. To try stop thinking about what happened and focus on what he's feeling.

The sensations. And that if he can't. That that is okay too. Letting him know that he doesn't have to feel alone or helpless.

Not tonight because he is here. He's going to help him get cleaned up. Alfie gasping. Calling his name like a prayer when Thomas unbuttons his pants. 

Then the billionaire is hugging him. Properly holding him and Alfred doesn't know how to react.

So he pushes him back. The warm feeling. Emotions he's not gonna acknowledge swirling about his brain now. God-damn it.

He kisses him deeply. A skillful hand running down Thomas's lovely body.

Losing himself to the sensation then he gestures to the ground.

Thomas picking up on what he wants.

Nodding curtly. Like he owes him more than he can say but as far as Alfred knows that's definitely not the case.

The words "you have asked me to trust you more than once tonight" also spilling from Alfred's mouth as he thrusts against him.

As an after thought more than an accusation.

Thomas not wanting to answer. Choosing instead to take him into his mouth.

Kissing his still clothed erection. Pulling at his boxers. Wrapping his mouth around his wet, naked skin moments later.

* * *

After Alfie's done showering and Thomas has for the most part cleaned up they sit on Thomas's couch.

A few medical books littering the coffee table. There was even a stethoscope.

Well look at that. Here lies a man of many talents, a trade.

Alfred thinking that he really didn't take Thomas as the type. But ultimately that he doesn't know anything real about this man.

Shouldn't.

For all he knows the spy is just that. Has been since the moment they crossed paths.

Someone he will never be close to. Right now that really feels like it's a good thing.

Room service coming up and pouring them coffee. Serving breakfast. Alfred grabbing a croissant.

Thinking he should call his mom to check up her. Let her know he's safe.

Maybe he can even swing by to see Sandra and her Dad for a pint of their finest beers.

With any luck he can just say he had a good morning. Grabbing a fork he digs in.

He knows Dave Boy and Bazza will seek him out when they are ready to see him again.

Without a doubt he knows what last night took. He blows on his still too hot drink lightly.

Watching Thomas fiddle with a small sugar jar and a spoon.

The man smiling at him briefly when he catches his attention.

Turning to look at his task moments later. A little too quickly. 

An for the most part comfortable silence enclosing around them.

He doesn't know what they are or if it even matters. They had a nice moment. They are still almost friends. Nothing has changed.

"When you get to America you should visit Gotham. I'll be throwing a party in your honor."

Thomas beams. Looking a little more sure of himself as he takes a sip of coffee.

"Patricia will certainly be delighted to see you. My sister, you remember her right?"

Alfred up from looks from his plate. A small smile on his face at the idea. He nods.

Reaching out with a hand. Thumb gently moving over Thomas's hand.

He doesn't know where he will go from here.

Not completely but there is hope that one day soon he will figure it out.


End file.
